A Demand
by Marzi
Summary: Merlin and Arthur were the last of the older generation of Kingsman. They held a certain understanding of each other that was born from a lifetime of working by each others' side. It often surprised no one to learn that their intimacy also stemmed from love. Even knowing all of that, the look on Harry's face scared Eggsy
1. Chapter 1

**A Demand**

PART I

Eggsy had long since accepted that he wouldn't get assigned every big case, but he still couldn't help but feel a bit envious of Roxy. Well, all right, envious wasn't the right word, but it was the word he used with her when they talked about dangerous missions. Being envious was something that could be laughed at and brushed off far easier than being fucking terrified.

He was a good agent, she was a good agent- but they saved the world together once, and it had only made them all the more determined to save each other. It was well known around the table that Lancelot and Galahad were an unstoppable force when it came to the others' well being. They also had a certain understanding and familiarity, which was why they were generally given the assignments that called for multiple agents. The only reason he wasn't out there with her now was because Merlin's skill set was needed.

Eggsy enjoyed the opportunity to be the voice in Merlin's ear, taking on the role he so frequently had. The older man didn't always appreciate the humor he brought to those situations, but as long as he came home, it didn't matter. Another thing Eggsy had learned since becoming an agent- being a handler was just as fucking stressful as being in the field. You were both God and helpless babe in every moment of every decision. Eggsy preferred the field. It was easier on his blood pressure.

Rather than hole himself up in Merlin's office, Eggsy preferred doing his monitoring in the conference room. He liked being able to spread out his folders and utilize the mirror alongside whichever laptops he networked for the mission feed. Having the other support staff work around the table also grounded him. He liked being able to see their faces, enjoyed the easy physicality of getting up and moving around the table, rather than having to sprint down halls, or into other cramped offices. The air circulated better too, and things didn't get quite so ripe after several days of work.

Eggsy could also steal glances at the head of the table. The chair was left empty while they worked, but its presence reminded Eggsy of the man who sat in it. Arthur. Harry.

Thinking of his mentor always calmed him, helped keep him focused, and reminded him miracles were real. Because when that one-eyed bastard had shown up at the shop after V-Day, that was what Eggsy had called it. A fucking miracle.

And what they needed now was a God damn fucking miracle.

Roxy and Merlin were undercover alongside MI6 agents. Of course, MI6 didn't know who they really were, which was very quickly turning into a problem. Because when MI6 realized you were lying to them, they tended to get... twitchy.

"Lancelot, get the fuck out of there."

_"Merlin-"_

Eggsy's eyes flickered away from her feed towards the magician's. "I've got Merlin." The older man's heavy breathing was the only thing coming through his speaker, but his running let Eggsy know he was alive. They could chat when bullets weren't flying at him. "Lancelot, get to the evac point."

_"Understood."_ She burst through a window and her feed became a wash of blues and greens as she hit the water.

Once she was in the water, Eggsy knew she was safe.

"Merlin, they're boxing you in, you need to get out of that corridor." He pulled up the building schematic and security feeds. "Take a right-"

He didn't get a chance to follow the directions as he pitched forward, feed almost going dark as he landed face down on the ground.

_"You fucking idiot! We had him cornered!_

"Merlin!" Eggsy would have settled for a God damn groan, anything to let him know the man was still alive.

All he got was the frantic shouting of the agents who had shot him as they learned Roxy had escaped.

Eggsy looked towards the head of the table and the empty chair. "Call Arthur." A tech jumped to it, and he looked back at the mission feeds. Roxy's was unfocused and blurry from her swim. Merlin's was a mostly indistinct patch of carpet.

"Lancelot, when you reach evac, do not wait."

_"Understood."_ There was a near indistinct tremor at the top of her voice in that response.

Jones pushed a piece of paper across the table and Eggsy read it upside down. _Arhtur en route_. Good. God he might currently be for Roxy, but he could do nothing for Merlin but listen.

_"Get medics here. Now."_

Eggsy closed his eyes. Alive. He was alive. For now.

"I want all hospitals and military bases within fifty kilometers watched. When they bring Merlin in I want people there." Hopefully they would have to take him somewhere outside their control in order to treat him. Busting him out of a hospital would be a lot easier than a secure MI6 facility. Especially since they didn't want to damage the agency in the process.

Merlin's glasses and other gear were stripped as they packed his wounds, leaving them without a live transmission of his location.

Eggsy was standing, though he didn't remember when he had gotten up from his chair. He gripped the edge of the table and rocked back and forth on his feet, trying to come up with something else to do.

Roxy was on the way to evac.

Merlin was being transported somewhere. He was alive. For now.

"Burn their computers and all security feeds from the facility. I don't want them to have digital copies of their faces." They had backups of the operation reports, even if MI6 did not.

If Eggsy felt like sharing later, he might allow the agency some of their information back.

"Someone had better be able to tell me how their cover got blown."

"It looks like some of our Trojans in their systems were discovered."

MI6 was finally playing technological catch up. Eggsy would have congratulated them under different circumstances.

One of the younger techs- Bors? Mars? Lars?- shook their head in disbelief. "Lancelot and Merlin's identities should have held up-"

"But when you're looking for a spy, two highly trained strangers stick out."

It was frustrating when being good at your job put you in jeopardy. Eggsy lowered his head and tried not to slam his hands on the table. Try fucking up some time wasn't exactly the best advice to give someone.

Arthur burst through the door and it was just another element of the controlled chaos around them.

Eggsy didn't collapse in relief, but he felt the tension ease between his shoulder blades. Arthur was their leader, he had solutions. And Harry was a damn good luck talisman.

"Status."

"Lancelot is on her way to the evac point, no sign of pursuit. Merlin was shot, they're taking him somewhere for treatment. No confirmation yet as to where."

The scramble around him said they were working on it as quickly as they could.

"Who shot him?" Harry stopped at the chair beside Eggsy, dropping his hands on top of the back.

"MI6. Someone found our back doors into their system, realized something wasn't right. The operation for the original target hadn't even-"

"Out."

The support staff's chatter as they sorted through feeds and possible locations stuttered and died, not quite sure they had heard the soft order correctly.

"Everybody out!"

They heard him that time, and scrambled for the door, pulling laptops and files with them. They still needed to locate where Merlin was headed.

Harry gripped the back of the chair, hunching over it as if it was the only thing supporting him.

Merlin and Arthur were the last of the older generation of Kingsman. It was well known around the table that they had once survived the end of the world together. They held a certain understanding of each other that was born from a lifetime of working by each others' side. It often surprised no one to learn that their intimacy also stemmed from love.

It was the kind of relationship Eggsy had with Roxy, without all the shagging.

Even knowing all of that, the look on Harry's face scared Eggsy. In all his fifteen years of working with the man, he had never seen it before.

The dark band of his eye-patch cut through the silver of his hair with the same boldness it always did, but laid heavy across the lines of his face. It seemed to dig into his skin and call to attention all the other marks that time and his work had etched into his features. He very suddenly appeared old and scarred in Eggsy's eyes. It was like coming face to face with a stranger.

He looked weary, and he looked fucking terrified.

Envious was what Eggsy and Roxy used in code for their worry. He had never thought to ask what Arthur and Merlin used. They seemed to function off of some sort deep faith and absolute trust. They didn't need codes, they just knew each other.

The staff were gone, so either Eggsy's presence didn't bother him or he had no idea that he was still there. Harry's hand shook as he took a mobile from his pocket, and Eggsy averted his eyes at the sight. He didn't catch the number dialed because he turned away, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"You have one of my agents."

Eggsy looked back at that. It wasn't just the thought of Harry calling up the head of MI6 and blatantly stating something so sensitive. It was the barely contained emotion in his voice.

He was breaking down right before his eyes.

"If you do not return him to me within twenty-four hours, and I find one fucking bruise on his body that he cannot account for, I will burn your agency to the ground."

Eggsy wasn't even sure if Harry disconnected the call before the mobile fell out of his hand and dropped to the floor.

He was so shocked by the sight of tears running down Harry's face that he didn't even think to turn away a second time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Demand**

PART II

Harry shifted in his seat. He would have thought, after all this time, someone would have come up with a comfortable hospital chair. Then again, sleeping wasn't very high on his list of priorities. If he slept he would not be able to watch Merlin- his Alastair- and remind himself that he was all right.

He had him back.

He slumped farther in his uncomfortable chair, and his back twinged. Fuck, getting old was a nuisance. He ran a hand over his face, fingers brushing against the straps of his eye-patch. Losing his eye had been a fucking nuisance. Being here was fucking ridiculous. Merlin was a handler. He should not have been put out there, no matter how low risk the mission had been dubbed.

Alastair should not have been shot. Alastair should have been at home with him, griping about Harry's full head of hair- gray though it may be-, making breakfast and telling Harry not to put so much sugar in his tea, wrapping his arms around him at night and reminding him that he was human.

He was not supposed to be in a hospital bed.

Harry considered having another heart attack. The poison that had induced the last one was in Merlin's lab, a few stories below him. Let the bastard wake up and see Harry in a bed alongside him, wondering what had happened while he was out. Alastair frequently said that if he had any hair left, Harry would have made him tear it out. As if he had the monopoly on worry. As if Harry was somehow running into reckless situations on a regular basis. As if Harry could ever leave him behind, if they did anything stupid these days, they tended to do it together. Harry had abandoned the notion of dieing alone more than a decade ago. Where one went, the other would follow.

He was beginning to sound a little codependent. Not to mention poisoning himself was a touch melodramatic. Their love affair was hardly Romeo and Juliet. It wasn't even an affair. Forty years of friendship, thirty years together, what they had was something else. And managing it in their line of work meant they were fucking _owed._

Harry wasn't in the habit of demanding things from the universe, but right now, he wanted a lot. His fucking desperate, silent, pleas for survival when Eggsy had told him Merlin was shot- his atrociously unprofessional call to the head of MI6 on their personal line- had awoken an entitlement in him. Harry had found himself taking things from the cold, uncompromising universe, and somehow the fabric of his reality had not snapped. No, it told him there were other options.

And fuck it, he was old enough now to take them.

He stared at Alastair, the shrill beep of the heart monitor filling the air rather than the low brogue of his voice.

"It's not like you to keep me waiting. I know people say you eventually pick up on the habits of those around you, but you should know better than to emulate me."

Late had just about defined Harry when he was Galahad. When he was younger he called it _making an entrance_. When he was older, it was _looking for another solution._ Because there was more to every mission than what was on the page. And right now, there was more to life than the missions he had dedicated himself to.

Shit. He was finally considering it, wasn't he? Retirement.

They had both been injured before- though Harry perhaps, a touch more frequently. Shot, stabbed, torn, broken. Gone missing. Been tortured. Vanished when need be. And fuck, wasn't that a brilliant way to start off being Arthur? A hole in his security, agents scattered to the wind, unable and unwilling to communicate until they found out how- found who was responsible.

His tears on those occasions had generally been private. They had normally been prompted by relief, not gut wrenching terror. Harry hadn't yet decided he wasn't dieing alone, then. It had been a quiet request all those years ago when he first realized it, laying beside Alastair. After this little escapade, he was going to make it a demand.

It was what he was owed.

Harry reached out and grasped Alastair's hand. There was no answering pressure from his fingers, so Harry took his other hand and clasped it on top of both of theirs.

"You used to say you would never live to see this day. As you are unequivocally alive, now all you need to do is see it."

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as the absurdity of what he was about to do caught up to him. He could handle this man seeing him be a bit ridiculous.

Harry leaned forward, damn back twitching as he did so, and kissed the top of Alastair's nose.

"Open your eyes."

It wasn't a request.

The universe listened.


End file.
